


bound together, then and forever

by aceofjapan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Day 5 - Communication, Don't copy to another site, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Summer of mutual pining, YOI Soulmates Week 2020, no beta - we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25951597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofjapan/pseuds/aceofjapan
Summary: He swallowed and lifted his hand to trace his fingertips along the letters that were not, he realised now, black, but a deep navy blue. He knew without trying that no amount of scrubbing would make these words disappear.Be my coach, Victor!The words told him with more certainty than any amount of butterflies in his stomach or distracted daydreams ever could.He was in love.He was in love with Katsuki Yuuri, his soulmate.A Soulmate AU in which, when you fall in love with your soulmate, the last words they said to you appear on your skin.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 122
Kudos: 375
Collections: Yuri!!! On Ice Soulmates Week 2020, maazeesfavs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Soulmate AU in which, when you fall in love with your soulmate, the last words they said to you appear on your skin.
> 
> Written for [YOI Soulmates Week]() Day 5 - Communication.
> 
> Chapter 2 will post next week.  
> In the meantime, why don't you come and join me in [my Discord server](https://discord.gg/MGZdMQc)?

Victor woke up the morning after the banquet at the Sochi Grand Prix Final with a feeling of boundless elation bubbling in his chest. He was smiling before he even opened his eyes, surfacing slowly from a whirlwind of warm, pleasant dreams. Soft rays of the morning sun creeping in through the window warmed his body and with a pleased hum he burrowed deeper into the perfectly comfortable hotel sheets. 

Victor was happy.

He couldn’t even remember when he’d last been anything that even remotely resembled content, and yet… one perfect, unbelievable night with the most surprising, overwhelming and sexy man he had ever met, and he was happy.

He allowed himself a few more minutes of floating pleasantly in his recollections of the night before, and by the time he rolled over and opened his eyes, his smile had blossomed into a full-fledged goofy grin. 

Katsuki Yuuri. 

The name tasted sweet when Victor rolled it over his tongue.

Who would have thought it was possibly to be so thoroughly swept off his feet in the span of one night?

Victor stretched languidly in the sheets, enjoying the slight soreness in his muscles that came from a night of dancing in addition to a weekend of skating, then he kicked off his blankets in a quick motion. Sitting up, his swung his legs out of bed and shook his head with a fond smile as Yuuri’s wide, lopsided grin the night before appeared in his mind’s eye.

In his peripheral vision he saw a dark smudge on his chest, and his hand came up automatically to brush it away, thinking it to be some lint or dirt. But instead of the fuzz he’d been expecting, his fingers just met smooth skin, raised ever so slightly.

Turning his head down fully now with a frown, Victor tried to get a proper look at it, but whatever it was, it was just outside his field of vision, high on his chest, just underneath his collarbone on the left side. From the small, blurry edge Victor could make out, it looked like writing.

Furrowing his brow, Victor thought back over the last night, wondering if he had somehow missed someone writing on him. Shaking his head, he pushed to his feet. 

There was a mirror on the door of the wardrobe in this room, that would give him a better idea of what he was dealing with.

He padded across the room in his bare feet, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains plenty to see by, and faced himself in the mirror.

There was indeed writing on his chest, but it was not the messy black-marker scrawl he‘d expected, remembering many nights of drunken shenanigans when he was younger. No, it was a clean, regular script, bold letters with just a bit of a flourish to them, imprinted into his skin like a tattoo.

Even though the words were mirrored, Victor had no problem recognising them immediately.

He swallowed and lifted his hand to trace his fingertips along the letters that were not, he realised now, black, but a deep navy blue. He knew without trying that no amount of scrubbing would make these words disappear.

_Be my coach, Victor!_

The words told him with more certainty than any amount of butterflies in his stomach or distracted daydreams ever could.

He was in love.

He was in love with Katsuki Yuuri, his soulmate.

* * *

This was something every child learned about soulbonds, a part of human connection since the very beginnings of history.

A certain percentage of the population—the latest census suggested a number just over twenty percent—had soulmates, romantic partners that they were fated to be with. When you fell in love with your soulmate, the last words they had said to you would appear on your skin, etched into your body like a tattoo. 

There was no way to know if you had a soulmate or who they were until this happened.

There was no guarantee that both people of a soulmate pair would feel the same way about one another—it wasn‘t very common, but on occasion the bond would remain one-sided for reasons unknown.

It was also unknown if it was possible for neither party of a soulmate pair to fall in love with each other, or for two soulmates to never even meet. Some researchers stipulated, therefore, that the percentage of people with undiscovered soulmate bonds may be significantly higher.

Other people believed that a soulmate bond was not fated from birth but was only established once the first party fell in love with someone compatible enough to be their soulmate, meaning there was no such thing as an unpresented soulmate pair. 

Soulwords could present on a person’s body in all manners of shapes, colours, sizes and locations. They could be covered up, but not removed, surgically or otherwise. They could stem from any kind of communication in words--spoken, written, electronic, even sign language.

In some cultures they were a point of pride, while in others they were something deeply private and intimate. 

No matter how the relationship with your soulmate developed after the presentation of the soulmark, they were always, always permanent.

* * *

Victor stared at the dark blue words impressed into his skin, and decided not to panic.

This was fine, he thought, tracing his fingertips tenderly along the ink, just in that spot where Yuuri’s breath had been hot against his skin when he’d exclaimed the very words now written there. This was okay. 

He was in love with Katsuki Yuuri. He didn’t mind being in love with Katsuki Yuuri, nor did he mind being his soulmate. In fact, if it meant that he could spend more time with Yuuri, Victor would be willing to have all manner of other things permanently written on his body.

And Yuuri—well. It was probably fair to say that Yuuri was not in love with him at this point. There wasn’t much of Yuuri’s body that Victor had not seen last night, and it had been free of any hint of Soulwords, which made sense, since they had never really spoken before last night. Perhaps Yuuri had even woken up with Soulwords of his own this morning. After all, it took a few hours for them to manifest.

But even if not—Victor was fairly certain that Yuuri was not indifferent to him. Sure, his excitement may have been exaggerated by how drunk he was, but the way he had sought out Victor over and over in the course of the night, the way they had clung to each other, dancing, the way Yuuri had hugged him before they parted ways… 

There was a certainty in him, deep in his bones, a certainty like he hadn’t felt in so many years, about anything, that, given time, Katsuki Yuuri could be just as enamoured with Victor as Victor was with him.  
And time they had. Yuuri had Victor’s number, and there were three months until Worlds. They could text or call or even video chat, perhaps, and they could get to know each other better, outside of the whirlwinds of intoxication and dance battles. 

They could bond, tell each other of their lives, share pictures of their pets (Did Yuuri have a dog? Surely Yuuri must have a dog!), and then they’d see each other again at Worlds.

And then the season would be over and perhaps… perhaps, if Yuuri still wanted it, Victor could try his hand at coaching. He’d never really thought about coaching before, had never really considered what he would do with his life after his competitive career was over, even as the gold medals grew heavier and heavier around his neck.

But if it allowed him to be close to Katsuki Yuuri… Victor thought he could do anything, then.

* * *

Yuuri did not text him. 

Victor waited with some attempt at patience for a few days, thinking about the hangover that Yuuri was sure to have and the traveling and the jetlag… but the more time passed the more desperately he wished he had been able to get Yuuri’s own number out of him in his inebriated state. Or sent himself a quick message from Yuuri’s phone as he was entering his number. 

He told himself that perhaps Yuuri was just busy. He’d found out online that Yuuri was going to college, so perhaps he just had some classwork to do. Perhaps he was working hard to prepare for his Nationals. 

Perhaps…

Victor tried not to let the words inked on his chest weigh too heavily on his mind as he daydreamed of dancing with Yuuri, of being held firmly in his arms. 

After ten days his patience snapped, and Victor set out searching for a way to contact Yuuri.

The only twitter account Victor could find under Yuuri’s name had been created in 2012 and had no profile picture, two tweets in Japanese and was following only three other accounts.

Victor noted with some satisfaction that one of those three accounts was his own, but still he wasn’t certain if this was Yuuri’s own account at all, or just someone with the same name, or perhaps some attempt at a fan account. 

Yuuri’s Instagram account was a little less sparse, sporting a good two dozen posts and a few thousand followers. The last posts was dated to two weeks before Sochi, a photo of skate-clad feet photographed from above, resting in a position that Victor recognized from countless hours spent on Youtube as the opening pose of Yuuri’s Short Program. There was a caption in English and Japanese, announcing Yuuri’s qualification for the GPF, thanking everyone for their support and asking them to root for him in Sochi.

Victor wondered if it would be too passive aggressive to like the post. He figured, in light of how the GPF had gone for Yuuri, it might even come across as snide, so he refrained. He did follow the account though, but the message request he sent remained unanswered, and no new posts or stories appeared on Yuuri’s account.

Though he spent more time than he’d readily admit to looking, he could not find any other accounts of Yuuris, nor could he get a hold of another way of contacting him. He did find out the general format of the student e-mail addresses of the college Yuuri attended, meaning he’d likely be able to email Yuuri by inserting his first and last name at the appropriate points, but he realised before he even got close to doing that that it went beyond desperate right to the far end of creepy. 

Perhaps he would just have to accept that Yuuri did not want to talk to him.

It was a tough pill to swallow, but Victor comforted himself with the thought that at least he would see Yuuri again at Worlds, and he could try and figure out what had gone so spectacularly wrong then. And try to fix it.

Except Victor’s birthday rolled around, and with it came the worst birthday present ever, in the form of the results from All Japan.

Yuuri had placed eleventh. Yuuri would not be going to Worlds. Yuuri’s season was over.

And now so was Victor’s. Metaphorically speaking. Victor was incapable of not doing what was expected of him (and wasn’t that just sad for the man who had once been The Unexpected personified?), and he got another gold at Nationals and started training for the European Championships. 

But he felt more drained than ever, his skates heavy as he dragged himself through his jumps week after week, his chest aching every time he skated Stammi Vicino. 

He thought he could feel the ink burning under his clothes.

* * *

Victor had made sure that his Soulwords were carefully covered up before he’d gone into the onsen, made sure that not only were the words unreadable but there was not even a trace of there being any Soulwords in the first place.

He did not want to influence Yuuri in any way, put him under any kind of pressure or obligation.

If Yuuri was going to complete their bond, he was going to do it freely, from his own heart.

Not that Victor was sure it would work any other way, but still, it was better to be safe.

And if Yuuri didn’t, well… 

“Yuuri! Starting today I am going to be your coach!”

Well, then Yuuri was still an incredibly talented skater who deserved a coach who could help him reach new heights.

Victor could do this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem... as you can see this fic is growing a life of its own. I upped the chapter count.  
> I was writing what was supposed to be the last chapter and it... got out of hand. But.. well, turns out I never got to write the summer of mutual pining before and I have. Thoughts.
> 
> Well, enjoy! Check out my [Discord](https://discord.gg/MGZdMQc) if you want!

Yuuri wasn’t quite sure what he expected when Victor came to Hasetsu and declared his intention to become Yuuri’s coach.

But he knew for sure that any expectations he may have had were shattered over and over until there was nothing left of them but shards. Whenever he thought he’d finally figured Victor out, figured out how a five time running World Champion and Living Legend ticked, Victor turned it all on its head again with a single word or action.

Yuuri couldn’t make sense of any of it.

He didn’t understand why Victor would show up in Hasetsu out of the blue in the first place. Why he would put his own career on hold in order to coach Yuuri, as if Yuuri was worth his time.

He didn’t understand why Victor acted like it was the logical next step to uproot his entire entire life including his dog and his marble bust for some reason after seeing a video of Yuuri skating a routine on the internet. Like there was nothing else he could have possibly done. Like he could not at all understand Yuuri’s surprise.

He didn’t understand how Victor could touch him so casually, lean so closely, speak so freely. How Victor seemed to actually want to spend time with Yuuri. Be close to him. How Victor, for some reason, seemed to think that Yuuri was interesting. 

And then… and then. What Yuuri understood least of all was why sometimes, when Victor thought no one would notice, when he thought that Yuuri was too wrapped up in himself to see, Victor would look at him. Look at him like… like Yuuri was not just interesting, but important. Like Yuuri meant something. 

Yuuri couldn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom what might possibly go through Victor’s mind, but these intense, lingering gazes weighed heavily on him. They itched on his skin. They made him feel embarrassed, not in the same way he felt when Victor got way too close way too soon, touched his chin or his lips or bent his body into shape in the onsen… no, it felt like… Like Yuuri was witnessing something private, something not meant for him. He felt like he was intruding, even though it was Victor who was staring at him.

He wondered often what Victor wanted from him. What he _really_ wanted from him.

Surely he had not come to Hasetsu to coach Yuuri out of the goodness of his own heart. Surely it was not out of charity for a struggling, dime-a-dozen skater. He didn’t really doubt Victor’s sincerity in wanting to see him succeed, couldn’t quite suspect his idol of ulterior motives, but he was sure there must be something more to it than that.

Did Victor want to prove to himself that he could coach? Did he want to prove that he could make a champion even from someone like Yuuri? Was there a wager involved?

Or perhaps Victor was seeking fulfilment in something new, now that he had achieved everything that could be achieved in skating. Perhaps he just wanted to see something different.

Yuuri wouldn’t judge Victor if any of this was true—after all, Yuuri was still getting all the benefits of having Victor as his coach regardless, and he didn’t have any illusions that he himself was enough to catch Victor’s interest.

Still—he could feel himself collapsing under the weight of all of it. All of the expectations that he could feel weighing on him after Onsen on Ice, even if he could not identify them. How was he ever supposed to live up to all that Victor expected of him, if he didn’t even know what it was?

It wasn’t until Yuuri was dragged to the beach by Victor one day that he realised, perhaps he wasn’t the only one who didn’t quite understand what was expected of him.

It was easier, being around Victor after that, somehow. 

It was comforting, in a weird way, to think that maybe Victor didn’t know what he was doing any more than Yuuri did.

* * *

Victor tried to keep his eyes to himself.

He really did. 

After he realised that sober Yuuri was obviously not as into intimate physical contact as drunk Yuuri was, he tried not to make him uncomfortable. He tried not to be a creep.

But as well-intentioned as he was, sharing the _onsen_ with Yuuri more days than not, changing together in the locker rooms at Ice Castle… it was a challenge. 

It wasn’t physical.

(Okay—Victor admitted to himself, when he once more caught himself staring at Yuuri’s slim waist, or at the muscles flexing in Yuuri’s back when he pulled his shirt over his head, or at Yuuri’s powerful thighs moving as he descended the steps into the steaming water—it wasn’t _purely_ physical.)

But Victor couldn’t help the flickering of hope in his chest that prompted him to search every inch of Yuuri’s bare skin that he could get a glimpse of, looking for a hint of that tell-tale ink on skin.

Every time he came up empty it made something heavy and bitter rise up in his chest. It was enough to taint any pleasure he might feel from seeing Yuuri’s beautiful body, so strong, so alive—so pristine. He knew, he really should stop looking—he was just setting himself up for disappointment. If it was going to happen, it was going to happen.

He really didn’t need another night like the one after he had stretched Yuuri into the most ridiculous poses in the _onsen_ , a whim allowing him a glance at areas of Yuuri’s body that were usually concealed. When there had been nothing, a frigid hopelessness had settled over his body and, lying awake until late into the night, not even the fuzzy warmth of Makkachin resting on his chest had been able to thaw him.

Like this he swung between hope and despair, unable to find stability in any one of the two. He knew, any day now could bring about the change. Any day now, Yuuri could wake up with fresh words on his skin. Any day now, _surely_ , Yuuri must fall in love with his soulmate?

Victor wasn’t so certain he believed it. This, too, was subject to daily change, along with Yuuri’s moods. As Yuuri moved between complete reticence and hesitant affection and sudden bouts of boldness and determination, so Victor wavered in his conviction.

Some days he was breathless with how sure he was that Yuuri loved him; could read it in the way his eyes burned into Victor sometimes like he couldn’t quite believe he was real. Could see it in the way Yuuri asked if Victor had everything he needed before they went to bed in their respective, solitary rooms, and in the way he sometimes, when the heat of summer was beginning to rise, would wordlessly appear next to Victor just to hand him a popsicle, and disappear again to wherever it was he went when he refused to spend time with Victor.

Other days, he was convinced that Yuuri didn’t even like him at all. Didn’t want to be close to him, ever. The way he’d sometimes disappear for hours on end after training. The way he’d answer so many of Victor’s endless questions with nothing more than a non-committal “nh”. The way he’d never, ever ask back.

The majority of days, however, was something in between, some murky, undefined middle ground of two people with apparently opposing personalities trying to navigate around each other. Trying to learn each other. Trying to coexist.

Yuuri was—he was infuriatingly mild-mannered sometimes, endearingly stubborn in turn. He was snarky when he allowed himself to speak without thinking, and strangely thoughtless, considering the fact that Victor could see him thinking _all the time_. His friends said that he wasn’t gifted, not naturally talented, but Victor had never seen anyone move like that, and he wasn’t at all sure that kind of grace could be learned. The way Yuuri spoke about himself sometimes made Victor want to pull his hair out.

And yet, none of these things made Victor love him any less. 

Quite the opposite, in spite of all his frustration, the more Victor learned about Yuuri, the deeper he fell. He was—he wasn’t all that Victor had believed him to be when he woke up that morning after the banquet.

He was so much stranger, so much deeper, so much more.

Victor let the words on his chest guide him whenever he felt lost, in a strange country, surrounded by a strange language, with a strange soulmate that he couldn’t make any sense of.

But Yuuri asked him to be here. Yuuri wanted him here. Whatever Yuuri would end up being to him—his student, his lover, _just Yuuri_ in the same way he’d asked Victor to be _just Victor_ —Victor would not give up on their bond.

In the meantime, he still kept his Soulwords carefully covered up, hoping that Yuuri wasn’t doing the same, that their feelings weren’t passing each other by, unseen.

* * *

Spring trickled away into the heat of summer and Yuuri found himself pitying Victor Nikiforov.

It was quite clear that Victor did not know how to deal with a Kyushu summer, and it was quite refreshing, in its way, to see his usually so immaculate composure quite literally melt away.

Sure, Yuuri himself wasn’t as used to the hot southern summers as he once was after five years away, but he’d grown up here—it was in his bones how to accept the heat rather than fight it, how to let it carry you rather than being pulled under.

Victor did not have these same skills, and it filled Yuuri with a small amount of glee that he would never admit to. But it was too lovely to see Victor, for once, quite overwhelmed.

Admittedly, Victor hadn’t been attempting to be the picture perfect champion for Yuuri for a while now. Not since Yuuri had asked him to be no one but Victor—or at least not since a few days after that, the days in the interim having apparently been spent being neither _Victor Nikiforov_ nor _just Victor_ , but merely _confused_.

Yuuri had figured out, after a while, that Victor didn’t quite seem to know what to do with himself when he wasn’t playing a role, but he was trying, and that was okay by Yuuri. This was also something that _Victor_ was—he was trying. 

But even then, Victor was still always so damn unflappable. All his bursts of exuberance and excitement and impatience aside, he was always so infuriatingly calm. He never got irritated or angry in any heated way, treated any issue either with a practical solution, a playfully dismissive whine or a cold kind of disappointment. 

But the heat made him fall apart.

He was annoyed when his shirt was sticking to his back with sweat again, ten minutes after he had showered. 

He was grumpy when Yuuri’s mother prodded him to have breakfast despite Victor’s insistence that it was “too hot to eat”. 

He snapped at the electric fan when he couldn’t get it to work to his satisfaction.

And the fact that none of the Katsukis, Yuuri included, were impaired by the heat at all just seemed to make him more flustered. 

It was nice.

So Yuuri enjoyed how Victor shook his head, disbelieving, when Yuuri still went for a run in the morning despite the temperature already being close to the thirties. He indulged Victor’s attempts at wheedling out precious more minutes in the coolness of Ice Castle after training, but mercilessly led him back to Yutopia when their work for the day was done.

He brought Victor popsicles and fridge-cold watermelon and made sure he drank enough water. 

He wondered if Victor had stopped asking him to sleep together because he had decided that it was too hot to sleep in close proximity to another human being, or because he had given up whatever misguided attempt at bonding that had prompted him to ask in the first place.

(He wasn’t sure which he’d prefer.)

He wondered if it was due to the same reason that Makkachin now spent many nights sprawled on Yuuri’s bed, or if Makkachin just really liked him.

(With this, he’d definitely prefer the latter, because he really liked Makkachin, too.)

It was a particularly sweltering day in late July when they were heading back to the _onsen_ in time for lunch. 

They wouldn’t usually leave the rink that early, in the worst of the midday heat, but Yuuri was due in Minako’s studio in the afternoon and he knew that Minako would not accept the heat as an excuse. Victor very nearly refused to leave the pleasant coolness of Ice Castle, making Yuuri run his step sequence over and over and then, when Yuuri decided not to indulge him any longer, declaring that he would stay longer and do some training of his own.

And it wasn’t that Yuuri didn’t trust him to stay at the rink alone; Victor often did when Yuuri had off-ice training in the afternoon, heat or no heat. But this wasn’t what they had planned for today, so Yuuri knew that Victor didn’t have any lunch packed, and wouldn’t be eating if Yuuri left him now. They had also planned to go over the final jump composition for Yuuri’s free skate while they ate. They wouldn’t have time to do it here and still leave enough time for Yuuri to head home and have lunch before he was due at Minako’s, and Yuuri wanted to talk it out while it was still fresh in his mind from the morning’s training.

So he dragged Victor back to the _onsen_ under his harshest protests, but he could practically see how Victor was wilting in the sun as soon as they stepped a foot outside. He complained about every bump and incline as he rode his bike back, Yuuri jogging along next to him, and over lunch he picked half-heartedly at his food despite _Okaasan_ ’s good-natured encouragements.

Yuuri watched him, chewing on his own lips more than on his food, considering as Victor lamented being stuck in the stuffy _onsen_ all afternoon doing boring ISU paperwork while Yuuri escaped to Minako’s studio. 

(The studio was not the least bit cooler than Yutopia was, but Yuuri made sure not to tell Victor that.)

He tried to think back to his first winter in Detroit, how miserable he had been in the unfamiliar cold, unable to keep himself warm with all the tricks and shortcuts that people who had grown up in cold climates knew. Unable to will his body into getting used to the biting cold. Yuuri thought he had been familiar with cold after spending so much of his life on the ice, but it was nothing compared to what expected him in Detroit.

And then there had been no one to commiserate with him, that first year, no Phichit, no one who didn’t just look at him with amused pity that he couldn’t handle something that was so basic, so natural to all of them.

Yuuri set his chopsticks down with a final click.

“Let’s take the afternoon off”, he said.


	3. Chapter 3

“Let’s take the afternoon off.”

Victor looked up, wide-eyed. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri shrugged, trying not to squirm under the intensity of Victor’s gaze. 

“I think we could both use some time off. I can call Minako- _sensei_ , tell her I’m not coming today. And the paperwork can wait, too. We can just relax here for a little while, and later, when the worst of the heat has passed, we could go to the beach. Cool down for a bit.”

Yuuri waited, fidgeting slightly when Victor just continued to stare at him.

“Uhm… what do you think?”

A smile spread on Victor’s lips then, and for once it didn’t look so strained. 

“I’d like that”, he said.

Yuuri nodded briskly, like it was decided, though he did not at all look forward to making that call to Minako. He gritted his teeth and got it over with, though, calling her immediately and listening patiently first to the tirade of scolding and then the long bout of teasing when Yuuri let slip that he was going to spend the afternoon with Victor, who was struggling with the heat.

Trying to fight down his blush, Yuuri tried to give Victor a reassuring smile, who was looking at him with raised eyebrows after he’d hung up. 

“It’s not a problem”, he said, though that hadn’t exactly been Minako’s words. But it was worth it to see the relief on Victor’s face, and how he picked up his chopsticks again and finished the rest of his lunch without a complaint. When Mari brought out some cold watermelon after, he took it eagerly, thanking her more freely than Yuuri had heard him in a couple of weeks.

After lunch, they sat in the shade of the _engawa_ , the doors to the living room slid wide open behind them in hopes of encouraging at least the tiniest breeze. The heat was oppressive at the height of the afternoon, silence ringing out from the gardens and the rest of Hasetsu as no living creature seemed to be inclined to move very much.

They sat in silence in their shorts and shirts, the grain of the wood warm and dry under their bare feet, watching the feeble movement of the leaves in the summer air. Victor seemed more relaxed already, though Yuuri could still see sweat beading on his forehead and his upper lip. He tried not to stare at the shine on Victor's skin, forcing himself to look away even as his gaze kept wandering back.

Even like this, even sweaty and with his hair a little limp, missing its usual shine, even with the hints of exhaustion still sitting tight around his eyes, Victor was so beautiful. Yuuri couldn't deny it, had never been able to deny it, how arresting Victor's beauty was. But now, here, it was something so different to what Yuuri had always admired on TV, on posters and in magazines.

It was something more real and something surreal all at once. Looking at Victor, right here next to Yuuri, was both proof that yes, of course those photos were taken to be flattering to the extreme, were edited and airbrushed to erase any flaws, make Victor's skin glow, his waist trimmer, the shadows under his eyes disappear. But at the same time, it was proof that Victor was also really and truly exactly as beautiful as he was portrayed to be. The graceful line of his neck, his sharp jaw, the shuddering blue of his eyes framed by pale, long eyelashes, like a jolt of cold water... all of it was real, right there for Yuuri to look his fill, if he wasn't so scared that any second, Victor might look over and catch him staring.

Victor's voice, when it cut through the silence, was soft, tentative. 

"What do you usually... I mean—how do you sleep at night, Yuuri?"

Yuuri flicked his eyes over at Victor again, now staring openly, not sure if he was being accused of something. 

"E-Excuse me?"

Victor huffed an impatient breath, but it seemed to be directed at himself. 

"In this heat, I mean. How—how can you possibly get to sleep and not feel like you're about to melt?"

"Ah", Yuuri turned his eyes forward again, staring out into the garden, brow furrowed, considering. "I guess I'm just used to it, mostly. I've grown up with these summers. It doesn't bother me that much. But when it's really bad, there's always a few tips and tricks you learn over the years."

"Such as...?", Victor prompted, and Yuuri hummed.

"Well, I guess the easiest one is to run your wrists under cold water to get your blood cooled down as it runs through your body. Or hanging up a damp sheet in front of the open window, the moisture evaporating will cool down the room. And drinking really cold things isn't actually all that good against the heat. It might make you feel refreshed for a moment, but it also restricts your blood vessels and makes your body retain heat."

Victor huffed, leaning back on his arms, staring into the sky.

"And I'm supposed to just know these things?", he said, a slight whine in his voice

Yuuri shrugged with a small laugh. "You'd learn after a few years of living here. Believe me, I was just as out of my depth when I first went to Detroit. I would probably just as hopeless in St. Petersburg."

Victor turned his head and Yuuri felt his eyes on him, focused, as if he was trying to picture Yuuri in St. Petersburg.

"Well", he finally said after a long time, "at least you already had experience with the ice when you went to Detroit. It's not like I spent half my life in a sauna before coming here."

Yuuri couldn't help the way the corner of his mouth quirked up. "Believe me", he said, "the cold in an ice rink in no way prepares you for a winter in Detroit."

Victor hummed, considering, and for a while, silence fell again between them.

Victor's eyes were closed, head tilted back slightly, lips parted, and looking at him like this, you could almost believe that he might be enjoying this—enjoying a lazy summer day here, with Yuuri. Until his head fell back and sharply jerked upwards again, eyes blinking open. 

Yuuri wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or be worried. 

"You really haven't gotten a lot of sleep, have you?", he asked. 

Victor shrugged. 

"Well", Yuuri continued, "you could take a nap now. It's no problem. I'll wake you up when it's cool enough to go to the beach."

The expression on Victor's face was downright longing when Yuuri mentioned a nap, but he looked doubtful still.

"Are you sure, you don't mind? After you took time off to...", he trailed off, giving a minute shrug. 

"Sure", Yuuri said, "You should rest. It's the best thing to do, anyway. Sleep the heat away."

Victor's lips quirked into a minute smile, even as his eyelids were already drooping again. 

"Alright", he mumbled, "A nap sounds... really nice."

Rather than get up and go inside, though, as Yuuri had expected him to, Victor just stretched out on the _engawa_ and rested his head on Yuuri's outstretched thigh.

Yuuri jolted. 

"V...Victor? What are you doing?"

Victor smiled up at him, soft and sleepy. "I thought we'd settled that. I'm taking a nap."

"Here?"

"Why not?" Victor's eyes were already closing. "My room is too stuffy... It's nice out here. Airy."

He trailed off, and already his breaths were evening out.

Yuuri opened his mouth, wondering for a moment if Victor was faking, but if he really was already asleep, Yuuri didn't want to risk waking him. Yuuri sighed, and resigned himself to remain motionless for the foreseeable future, in order not to wake the five-time world champion _sleeping in his lap_.

At least now he didn't have to pretend not to be staring anymore, he thought, as his eyes trailed down again to trace along Victor's lashes resting against his cheek. His soft, fine hair fanning out over Yuuri's bare thigh, warm and tickling whenever Victor moved. The constellations of freckles blooming on his shoulders and across the bridge of his nose. 

Victor's breath was a hot breeze on Yuuri's skin. He was so close that Yuuri could smell him, sweat and ice and peach conditioner.

Yuuri never knew what to make of Victor when he got close like this. At the beginning, it had been overwhelming—no, more than that. It had been unsettling, all of Victor's touches so incongruous with their non-existent relationship. Itching on his skin, as if they were not meant for Yuuri, but meant for someone else, some stranger that Victor expected to live in Yuuri's skin. He hadn't been able to bear these touches.

Over the months, however, something had changed. Victor's touches had changed, and so, he supposed, had Yuuri, as they grew more comfortable with each other, as Victor's presence became less of an impossibility, so humongous that it warped the very reality around it, and settled into being merely incredible. Victor's body became a reality in Yuuri's life—there is only so much time you can spend together without touching casually, especially as coach and student. There was always choreography, stretches, Victor's help in demonstrating his quads, costume fittings and wrapping Yuuri's bruised and bloody feet. There was only so often a hand could touch you, warm and solid and with purpose, before you'd stop flinching away.

Over time, Yuuri had even found the courage for touches of his own, always out of necessity, never just for the sake of touching the way that Victor still did, but... grabbing Victor's wrist to drag him out of the rink when he was being obstinate, swatting away Victor's hand when he insisted on trying to feed Yuuri his lunch, putting his hand on Victor's shoulder to push himself up from the dinner table, his muscles stiff and sore... these were the kinds of touches that Yuuri allowed himself. And after a while, the surprise at feeling Victor solid and real under his hands faded.

Still, something like this, something that felt so intimate, so heavy with intent, still left Yuuri confused, unable to decide if he wanted to recoil or lean into it. It didn't feel so unsettling anymore, it didn't feel like they were meant for someone other than Yuuri anymore, someone bolder, someone more. They were softer now, more deliberate somehow, and Yuuri would never understand why Victor would seek him out like this. But he also didn't run away from it anymore. Victor was here, for Yuuri, and he not only allowed Yuuri to be close to him but actively encouraged it. Who was Yuuri to reject such a gift?

No matter how much it made Yuuri's heart flutter in his chest, no matter how every touch would circle endlessly in his mind's eye at night, no matter how much the thought scared him that he might not always be allowed this much... Yuuri lifted one hesitant hand and brushed a few errant strands of hair out of Victor's face, peaceful in his sleep. For now, perhaps, he could have this.

* * *

Eventually the heat of the afternoon began to recede and the sun started dipping in the sky, and Yuuri needed to try and figure out how to wake Victor up. 

He didn’t really want to—Victor seemed to be very content in his sleep, and he appeared to really need it, too. But if they wanted to still go to the beach they would have to leave soon, and besides, the sun dipping lower made the shade recede on the _engawa_ , leaving them in the sun, which would burn Victor if he kept sleeping.

So Yuuri stared down at him, wondering if he should just say Victor’s name, but somehow it felt like a sacrilege to disturb the quiet with his voice. He considered putting his hand on Victor’s shoulder, or—some mad part of his brain supplied—on his cheek, waking him up with a gentle touch. 

Thankfully, before Yuuri could come to a decision, it was taken out of his hand by Makkachin who bounded over to them over the wooden walkway and, without any hesitation whatsoever, pressed her cold nose against Victor’s hand with a low _boof_ , demanding her afternoon walk.

Victor made a soft, sleepy sound at the back of his throat at that, a sound so unguarded that Yuuri didn’t feel quite sure he was allowed to be hearing it. It felt too intimate, almost. 

Victor mumbled something that may have been Makkachin’s name, his tone exasperated and fond, his hand twitching in a half-asleep movement to pet Makkachin’s muzzle. She reciprocated by licking Victor’s fingers, and Victor’s face scrunched up at the sudden wet sensation.

Yuuri couldn’t quite help the chuckle that fell from his lips, and Victor went still in his lap, one hand still half outstretched toward Makka. After a few long, quiet seconds, he squinted one eye open, peering up at Yuuri.

“ _Yuuri_ …”, he said, drawing out the name, and Yuuri could well picture the teasing tone that he was going for, but his voice was still too soft and throaty with sleep to quite have the desired effect, “are you laughing at me?”

“I would never”, Yuuri said, but he couldn’t quite contain his smile. “Did you have a good nap?”

Victor just gave a pleased hum and squirmed on Yuuri’s thigh, as if trying to snuggle into a more comfortable position. 

Yuuri, trying to fight the heat rising into his face, cleared his throat. 

“Victor, uhm… if we still want to go to the beach, we should probably leave soon.” He hesitated. “Ah, but if you’d rather sleep some more that’s okay, too.”

Makkachin seemed to disagree, butting her head against Victor’s shoulder, and Victor sighed, blinking his eyes open. “That’s alright”, he mumbled, pushing himself up from Yuuri’s thigh, “I’m awake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 💜
> 
> Join my [Discord](https://discord.gg/MGZdMQc), if you're into that.


	4. Chapter 4

It took a little while for them to change and get everything ready, but eventually they were at the back door, ready to set off, each of them in their swimming trunks and a T-Shirt, a bag with towels and bottles of water slung over Yuuri’s shoulder, Makkachin panting excitedly at their heels.

“You ready?”, Yuuri asked, and Victor grinned at him, excitement bubbling in his chest again now that the sluggishness of sleep and heat had dissipated a little. It was the first time that Yuuri had suggested for them to do something together of his own accord, something that was not related to skating. Victor was hardly going to pass up that opportunity, no matter how nice it had been getting to nap on Yuuri’s thigh, no matter how thrilling it had been that Yuuri had _let him_.

"Let's go", Victor said, and Yuuri ducked his head in a nod, gesturing for him to go ahead while Yuuri followed, Makkachin running ahead of them with an excited bark. She knew the way to the beach well enough by now, having been taken on plenty walks by the waterfront, and Victor watched her sniff with interest at all her usual bushes and posts. Sometimes it was still dizzying to think that Victor had been here long enough that Makkachin had her usual _anything_.

Yuuri's steps were steady behind him, hanging back just that little bit too much to be said to be walking next to Victor. He was quiet; had been, mostly, ever since Victor had woken up, but for once the silence wasn't tense, wasn't uncomfortable between them. There was something contemplative on Yuuri's face when Victor dared to look over his shoulder at him, as if he was trying to figure something out. Victor didn't mind this, though, this companionable silence, so different to the awkwardness that still tripped up their conversations too often.

It didn't take them long to get to the beach, Makka running ahead into the surf while Victor and Yuuri found a shady spot under a tree to set down their things. Victor swept his eyes along the beach while Yuuri pulled two beach towels out of his bag. It was such a different sight from when they had been here a few months before—the beach was still mercifully deserted, leaving them to their privacy, and the gulls still cried overhead, that familiar sound that now never failed to make Victor smile. But apart from that, it was quite a different picture, with the clear blue sky and the dazzling sunlight painting the ocean in a warm blue hue, gentle waves glittering on the surface.

"So, you wanna go in?", Yuuri asked without preamble, once they've spread out their towels, and Victor shrugged. 

"That's what we came here for, right? And a swim sounds really nice, to be honest." 

Yuuri nodded and silently handed Victor a bottle of sunscreen from his bag. Victor couldn't help but grin, though Yuuri didn't see it, already turning away to pull his shirt up over his head. Trying not to let his gaze linger too long on the bare expanse of Yuuri's back, Victor toyed for a moment with the collar of his own shirt, taking the opportunity to glance under the fabric at his own chest. The cover-up he used was water-proof, and had so far withstood all the sweat and _onsen_ uses that Victor's life had to offer without any big problems. He'd touched it up before they left for the beach, and so, expectedly, he couldn't see any hint of the ink on his skin now.

Pulling off his own shirt, Victor dropped it and himself haphazardly on his towel, clicking open the bottle to start spreading sunscreen on his bare legs. Yuuri was hovering nearby, his shoes and glasses taken off too, uncertain, seemingly not sure if he wanted to look at Victor or not. 

"You can already go ahead, if you like", Victor said with a low chuckle, but Yuuri shook his head right away. 

"I'm okay to wait."

Victor hummed, moving on to his chest and stomach, careful to leave out the area with his Soulwords, so he wouldn't smudge his cover-up. There were already many more freckles on his shoulders than Victor could remember having since his childhood, before he had started spending all his time in an ice rink, and he quietly resigned himself to more blooming on his skin after today. "You know", he said lightly, while covering his arms, "just because you won't burn doesn't mean you shouldn't still put on sunscreen."

"I already put some on when I was getting changed at home", Yuuri said absently. He seemed to have settled on looking at Victor, his eyes tracing the movements of Victor's hands over his skin. "I'll freshen it up after we get out of the water."

"So responsible, Yuuri", Victor said, glancing up at him as he put lotion on the back of his neck.

Yuuri shrugged. "Do you, uhm." He gestured weakly toward the bottle of sunscreen. "Do you need help with your back?"

Victor stared at him, mouth open, just for a moment, but he surely wasn't going to pass up the opportunity of Yuuri willingly putting his hands on him.

"Please", he said, holding out the bottle.

Kneeling down on the towel behind him, Yuuri's hands were warm and gentle on Victor's skin, if practical. He didn't linger over his touch, much as Victor wished that he would, but he rested his hands on Victor's shoulders for a moment when he was done, and Victor liked to think that he'd given them a quick squeeze before Yuuri pushed himself up. 

"Well, come on then", he said, stepping in front of Victor again and extending a hand to help him up. Victor grasped it with his own and, both their palms still slick with sunscreen, they had to hook their fingers firmly together for Yuuri to actually pull him up.

Victor came to his feet with a slight stumble, and Yuuri loosened his grasp as soon as he saw that Victor was standing, sliding his hand down until their fingertips were barely touching—but he didn't pull away. 

Victor stared at him, couldn't help himself, stared at the way that Yuuri stared at their hands, at the light pink blush that dusted his cheeks and ears, at the slight furrow between his eyebrows. Heart clenching in his chest, Victor squeezed Yuuri's fingers firmly, pulling him forward, running. 

"Come on!", he said, a laugh bubbling out of him before he could help it, "Last one in the water has to buy ice cream."

"Vi-Victor!" Yuuri stumbled at first, startled by the sudden movement, but then he caught himself, getting his feet under him and, looking over his shoulder, Victor could see the moment Yuuri's competitive spirit kicked in, his face setting in a determined grin as he sped up to keep up with Victor. 

They ended up running into the surf side by side, hands still clasped, received by an excited Makkachin splashing around in the shallow water.

The waves were cool and soothing on Victor's skin, though he couldn't quite keep his breath from catching at the sudden change in temperature. He pressed on, though, wading further into the water and diving in head first as soon as he was deep enough. He wasn't quite sure when he had lost his grasp on Yuuri's hand, but when they surfaced again a few moments later they were several meters apart, laughing and shaking salt water out of their hair.

"Victor!", Yuuri exclaimed again, giggling this time, pushing his wet hair out of his face. Sea water was running down his body in rivulets, catching the slanted rays of the evening sun. His posture was relaxed, his face open, for once, when he looked at Victor, eyes narrowed and sparkling in his laughter. He was so beautiful it made Victor ache. 

The word slipped of Victor's tongue before he could hold himself back. 

"Vitya."

He waded through the water closer to Yuuri, eyes fixed on his face when his smile was replaced by wide-eyed surprise. 

"Call me Vitya."

Yuuri took a breath, searching Victor's face, fingertips trailing through the water around them. "Are... are you sure?"

"Please."

Victor had never been the kind of person to ask for things. Whatever it was that he wanted he had, at first, fought teeth and claw to achieve on his own and then, later, been given to him by virtue of being who he was. Asking for anything had never been part of his nature, the words barely in his vocabulary. With Yuuri, Victor was learning that it wasn't so bad to ask, to plead, even, for what he wanted. Not when it was this. Victor had never in his life wanted anything that was so adamant in its refusal to be possessed, and yet given so willingly, a gift bestowed, if only he asked.

Yuuri nodded slowly, still holding his gaze. 

"Vitya", he said, and Victor knew, if it was possible to have more than one set of Soulwords he would have this name etched all over his skin. There was nothing that could possibly make him fall any further for this man, this beautiful, contradictory, surprising man, than hearing his lips shape those syllables so carefully, so reverently.

They looked at each other for a long moment more, before Makkachin's bark startled them out of their reverie, Yuuri tearing his eyes away to look toward the dog chasing after a seagull on the shore. Victor saw a small smile forming on Yuuri's lips, but before he could say anything Yuuri had already thrown himself back into the water, parting the waves with long, languid strokes. Victor huffed a small laugh of his own. They had come here to cool down, he supposed.

* * *

They swam and splashed around for a while longer, as the sun slowly descended toward the horizon and doused the beach into warm golden hues. They raced in crawl and backstroke, Victor's muscle mass versus Yuuri's stamina, tackling and pulling each other under the water until they were breathless with laughter and gasping for air, and found a stick to throw for Makkachin while they walked leisurely through the shallow surf, sand pliable under their bare feet.

The rays of the sun coming in low now from the horizon were not so hot anymore, and while the heated summer air was still warm against their skin and their wet hair and shorts a soothing balm, Yuuri also didn't want to risk them catching a cold. 

"We should shower and towel off", he said, "it'll get cooler quickly once the sun's gone."

Victor gave an affirmative hum next to him, turning around their steps back toward where they had left their things.

Picking up their towels they headed to the basic, open showers set at one side of the beach, just to rinse off the saltwater from their skin and hair. The water pouring from the head was a lot warmer than the ocean, the reservoir having warmed up throughout the day, but Yuuri didn't mind it, stepping under the spray eagerly. Victor however, under the opposite shower, made a face when he stepped into the lukewarm water, his hair plastered against the sides of his face, wet and dripping. Yuuri couldn't help the laugh that broke out of him, only intensifying when Victor gave him an exaggerated pout.

"I guess it is true", he gasped out between bouts of laughter, "that dog and owner become more like each other over time."

"Yuuri!", Victor whined, "No fair!" 

He ran a hand through his hair, likely in an attempt to bring it into some semblance of order, but with all the swimming and messing around in the water the strands had tangled and just piled up in a messy bunch on top of Victor's head. Yuuri doubled over laughing, unable to hear the words Victor grumbled before he suddenly felt two hands in his own hair, mussing it up under the spray.

"Vitya!", Yuuri shrieked, trying to pull his head away at the same time as reaching for Victor's hair himself in order to exact his revenge. He was laughing so hard, he half expected to choke on shower water. When he finally managed to pull away from Victor's grasp, stumbling backwards out of the shower stream, Victor gave him a triumphant grin. 

"There!", he said, "That'll teach you to laugh at me!"

Yuuri stuck out his tongue at Victor and tried to smooth down his hair, a task a little easier for him than Victor, since his hair was shorter. When he looked up again, he was struck square in the face by a towel. 

"Let's dry off", Victor said, fond smile still obvious in his voice, and Yuuri had to bury his face in his towel to hide his own silly grin.

They towelled off roughly as they strolled across the beach back to where they had left their stuff, Makkachin following in their wake, more sedate now after a couple of hours of extensive playtime, stopping occasionally to shake water out of her fur.

Back at the tree Yuuri picked his T-shirt back up while Victor did the same, shaking sand out of it and slinging it over his shoulder for a moment while he folded his towel. 

Yuuri followed the movement automatically, when his gaze snatched on something else.

“Oh, Vitya, there’s—”, he started, but then interrupted himself when he suddenly wasn’t sure anymore if he wanted to—or should—complete the sentence. _There’s something on your chest_ , was what he was going to say, and there was—there was. But at first glance, Yuuri had thought the dark smudge was perhaps some dirt or a piece of seaweed that had clung to Victor’s skin. But no, a second glance planted enough of a doubt about that in Yuuri’s mind that he broke off. Before he could take a third, proper look though, Victor had already turned away to stash his towel in Yuuri’s bag. “Yes, what is it?”, he asked lightly, and it seemed he had not noticed the reason for Yuuri’s hesitance. 

Already he was pulling his shirt back over his head, still half turned away and looking over his shoulder as he pulled down the fabric, at Yuuri in his continued silence. 

“Yuuri?”, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

Yuuri didn’t know how to reply. He wasn’t sure that what he had just seen was really the edge of Soulwords on Victor’s chest, just glimpsing out under smudged cover-up. He couldn’t be sure. It might have been anything else—dirt or seaweed as he’d thought at first, or just some discoloration of the skin he’d never noticed, or even just a regular tattoo that Victor didn’t want anyone seeing, a bad decision from younger days perhaps. 

If it was the first, it wasn’t important, and if it was the last it was none of his business. And if it really was Soulwords, carefully covered up and hidden in all the months and months that Victor had been in Hasetsu, then it still wasn’t any of his business. Victor clearly didn’t want anyone to know that he had a soulmate, and there could be any number of reasons for that.

Perhaps his soulmate hadn’t loved him back. Perhaps they had but it hadn’t worked out between them. Perhaps they’d passed away. Perhaps Victor just wanted to keep it private. No matter the reason, what Yuuri had seen—if he had even seen it at all—had clearly not been intended for his eyes. It was for the best if he didn’t say anything. Best just to forget about it.

Yuuri shook himself out of his thoughts before his silence dragged on too long. He forced a smile onto his lips, wondering why he suddenly felt like the ground had dropped out from under him. “Ah, no, it’s nothing, I just…”, he tried to wave it off, but Victor’s raised eyebrows, his gaze fixed on Yuuri made it clear that he wasn’t going to let this go.

Yuuri cleared his throat. “I was just going to say”, he began again, “there’s something I wanted to tell you, but then it went right out of my head just as I was saying it. Don’t you hate when that happens?” He gave a slight laugh. “I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”

Was that okay?, Yuuri wondered. Had his voice not sounded too hollow? Had his smile looked normal enough?

“Oh”, Victor said, and though his gaze lingered on Yuuri a little longer, questioning, he seemed to accept his words, “okay then. Yeah. If it was important it’ll come back to you.”

They finished packing up their things in uncertain silence, the awkward tension creeping back in, and Yuuri silently cursed his slip up, or the fact that he wasn’t a better actor.

It had been so relaxed between them this afternoon, so comfortable. Victor had seemed so content ever since their lunch. Yuuri did not want to end their afternoon off on such a note. 

Forcing back whatever heavy, dark feeling sat in his stomach like a sense of impending doom, he hefted the beach bag over his shoulder again and looked back at Victor with a bright smile that felt more genuine. 

“Let’s head back, then!”, he said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Victor gave him a small but warm smile in return, falling into step beside him.

“Fresh air and a day of relentless exercise will do that to you”, he said.

Yuuri looked at him from the corner of his eyes, eyebrows raised. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me have _katsudon_ tonight?”

Victor returned his gaze, likewise. “Did you win anything?”

Yuuri hummed, considering. “I was faster than you swimming the backstroke?”

Victor clicked his tongue. “Try again.”

“Such a mean coach”, Yuuri said, without any real bite behind it. “Can I have rice, at least?”

“Perhaps”, Victor said, leaning his head to the side contemplatively, “Because you asked so nicely. No pork though.”

“Yes, coach”, Yuuri mumbled, going for a teasing tone, and the pretense tasted bitter on his tongue. He already knew he would be paying for this once he was back in his room, alone, tonight. 

But for now it was worth it for the way that Victor chuckled and reached out a hand to touch the damp hair at the back of Yuuri’s head, a bit too gently to be ruffling it, a bit too fleeting to be carding through it. 

It was worth it to see how the tension that had temporarily threatened to creep into Victor’s shoulders again was dissipating once more, leaving him relaxed and laughing freely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *opens ledger*  
> I am now taking bets for what Yuuri's soulwords will be.
> 
> Thank you for reading! 💜
> 
> Join my [Discord](https://discord.gg/MGZdMQc), if you're into that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is....... 👀👀👀

All throughout dinner with his family, Yuuri tried to keep his thoughts focused only on the here and now, on the delicious bowl of rice that he was allowed to indulge in, the easy conversation about how the day at the _onsen_ had gone and Victor's honest laughter that had become kind of a rarity at Yutopia in the last couple of weeks. 

Whenever Yuuri's thoughts threatened to stray toward anything else, toward a past that may not have been or a future that might never become, he shook his head to himself, pushing the thoughts down to examine later, when he was on his own. He attempted to join in the conversation as sincerely as he could, and a few times he even managed to almost forget all about what he may or may not have seen. He laughed at his father's lame jokes and returned the quick smiles Victor shot him whenever their eyes met.

After dinner Victor and Yuuri helped clear the table despite _okaa-san_ 's assurances to stay seated, and by unspoken agreement the family gathered again around the table once all the chores were taken care of, for some more conversation and a drink before bed. 

With a distracted smile Yuuri watched Victor converse with his family in an adventurous mixture of English and Japanese, realising just how much Victor's Japanese had improved since he had come to Hasetsu. It was still far from fluent, but he made himself understood, even if they had to talk in circles for a while, or Victor had to make liberal use of his already animated gestures to get his point across.

It was only rarely now that he turned to Yuuri to help him translate a word or phrase that he really didn't know how to express in any other way. Something about that made a painful warmth rise up in Yuuri's chest.

It wasn't long before both Victor and Yuuri were yawning through every other sentence. The heat, the fresh air and all the exercise had worn them out, and Yuuri's limbs felt heavy, just on the edge between pleasant sleepiness and exhaustion. 

They made their excuses and were waved off by Yuuri's parents, making their way through the onsen in companionable silence, Makkachin's paws rustling on the wood floors behind them.

They paused in the hallway before Victor's room, Yuuri turning back towards Victor who was standing in the doorway. For a moment they stood quietly, not quite meeting the other's eye, a little bit of awkwardness creeping back into the air between them. 

Finally, Victor cleared his throat. 

"Thank you for this afternoon, Yuuri", he said, "I... I really needed that."

"No problem", Yuuri said, "It was fun."

They both nodded, silence falling again for a moment.

"If you, uhm... if...", Yuuri's voice almost faltered, the hesitation so grating now, after they had conversed so easily all afternoon. "if you can't sleep tonight, remember the tricks I told you. Maybe it'll help."

Victor gave a small huff of laughter. "Sure. I'll do my best." He paused for a long moment, his gaze lingering on Yuuri, heavy. "Well then", he finally said, "Good night, Yuuri. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Nh. Good night—Vitya", Yuuri said, watching from the corner of his eyes as Victor turned around to slide open the door to his room. 

"Uhm—Vitya?", he asked, before Victor could disappear inside. 

Victor turned around, almost hasty. 

"Yes, Yuuri?"

Yuuri swallowed. "Do... do you miss it?"

Victor blinked at him, perplexed. "Miss it?"

"Russia", Yuuri clarified, clearing his throat, "Do you ever miss Russia? The cold, and your rink and your... your friends?"

Victor hummed, considering, running his fingers absently through Makkachin's fur. 

"I won't pretend I don't miss the cooler weather sometimes, especially lately", he finally replied, voice even, "but beyond that, no, I was...", he hesitated before pressing on, "I was looking forward to seeing something different for a change. And... Hasetsu is beautiful."

Yuuri nodded silently, trying not to shift on Victor's gaze still lingering on him, so sincere. 

"Why do you ask?"

"I just...", Yuuri gave a half-hearted shrug, attempting to meet Victor's eyes for a moment before looking away again. "I was just wondering."

Victor sighed out a deep breath. "Alright then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow." 

Yuuri made an affirmative noise in his throat, and this time, when Victor turned to leave, he didn't hold him back. For a few moments Yuuri stared at the closed _shoji_ behind which Victor has disappeared, until the lights flickered to life in the banquet room, and Yuuri tore his attention away, making his way down the corridor to his own room.

As soon as the door had clicked shut behind him, he leaned against the door with a deep sigh, the fabric of his shirt sliding against the rough grain. For a few moments there was only numbness in his limbs, a short reprieve of quiet before all that he had been pushing away over the last few hours came flooding back in, tossing him about like driftwood on the waves.

Finally, he allowed himself to process all that had happened during the day, finally allowed himself to even think about what he had seen at the beach. 

Closing his eyes, he let the mental image appear before him again, trying to make sense of what he saw. It had really only been a glimpse, a hint, too fleeting to say anything for sure. Maybe it hadn't been Soulwords. Maybe not. But the more Yuuri thought about it, the surer he was it hadn't been seaweed or dirt either.

Yuuri buried his face in his hands and groaned quietly. 

So what if Victor had a soulmate? What kind of a difference did it make to Yuuri? Whatever private reasons Victor had, he had chosen to come to Hasetsu to be Yuuri's coach, had he not? Anything beyond that really wasn't any of Yuuri's business. Victor had chosen to keep his Soulbond a secret, and it wasn't for Yuuri to intrude upon that. 

Whatever hangups he had about the words possibly ingrained in Victor's chest, Yuuri better get over them, and quickly. It wouldn't do for them to leave this room, to seep out into his relationship with Victor and make things awkward between them again when they had just come to some sort of tacit understanding

Yuuri jumped, torn from his thoughts, when there was a rustle outside in the corridor, and a soft noise against his door, one that he could feel in his spine more than he could hear it. 

His head snapped up, wide-eyed, and he pushed off from the wood. Reaching out a hesitant hand, he curled his fingers around the doorknob, and twisted the door open before he could second guess himself. 

On the other side of his door was Makkachin, huffing happily, her tail wagging behind her. 

Yuuri took a moment to swallow down the hot lump forming in his throat, then sighed it out. 

"Come on in then", he said, stepping aside.

Shaken from his thoughts, Yuuri finally stepped further into the room once the door was closed behind him and Makkachin. Pulling his shirt off over his head, he wondered if he should take another, proper shower before bed. It would probably be for the best, washing the remaining salt water and sand and sweat off his body. He felt too tired for it, but he also knew that he would feel gross in the morning if he went to sleep like this.

With a sigh, he ran his fingers through Makkachin’s fur as she nosed at his hip.

“Sorry Makka”, he murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

Grabbing a change of clothes, he quietly pushed open the door to his room once more and padded down the hall to the bathroom. Flicking on the lights, he was confronted with his own face in the mirror, and he grimaced automatically. 

There were still hints of his afternoon lingering everywhere in his reflection, his hair mussed and traces of salt crystallising in it, the skin of his face and shoulders a good shade tanner than it had been in the morning. And then there was something else, something soft in his expression, something warm, even as he chewed on his lips, thoughts trailing back to Victor and his Soulwords over and over again.

With a frustrated groan he shook his head, running both hands roughly through his hair in an attempt to chase away the tendrils that kept grasping for him. 

It didn’t matter. It was none of his business. It didn’t change anything. 

He paused.

There had just been something in the corner of his eye, something that his subconscious was telling him was out of place, even if his mind had barely registered it. 

What was it he had just done? He lifted his hands again to run them through his hair and—there. There was a shadow on the inside of his right wrist.

A bruise?

No. Lifting his arm in front of his face, he examined the discolouration of his skin. It was pale, pink, indeed vaguely bruise-coloured, but it was too uniform, too deliberate to be a bruise.

Tilting his hand back, Yuuri held his wrist into the stark light over the mirror.

His breath hitched in his chest.

It was a word.

Wide-eyed, he stared at the faint outline on his skin that would most likely be darkening into something more solid over the next few hours, then met his own eyes, wide and frantic, in the mirror.

A Soulword. 

_Please._

Just the one word, a single syllable.

He licked his lips, eyes moving frantically back and forth trying to remember when—how—

An image flashed before Yuuri’s eyes, Victor sitting on a beach towel, bare-chested and smiling, holding out a bottle of sunscreen to Yuuri.

And another: Victor, up to his hips in glittering sea water, illuminated in warmth from the slowly dipping rays of the summer sun.

“Please.”

He was—he was in love.

With Victor. His soulmate.

He was—Yuuri audibly gasped in the small, empty bathroom, remembering just a hint of ink on Victor’s chest, carefully hidden under a layer of cover up. Remembered the long, lingering gazes hooking into Yuuri's skin that he could never quite make sense of.

"Call me Vitya."

"I really needed this."

"Hasetsu is beautiful."

_Oh._

Yuuri was almost shaking in his haste to unlock the bathroom door and tear it open, running down the hall, not bothering to be quiet now. He slid open the _shoji_ and stumbled into Victor’s room, breathless.

“Vitya!”

The light was dim in the room, Victor sitting up in bed and rapidly pulling the sheets up over his chest. And this, from Victor, who Yuuri had never known to be in any way shy about his body, would have told him enough, even if he hadn’t seen it this time.

Hadn’t seen the dark letters sprawling underneath Victor’s collarbone, too quick to have read the words, but more than enough to know they were definitely, undoubtedly there.

“Yuuri, what are you—”, Victor said, voice confused, alarmed, but not heavy with sleep just yet, as he leaned over to flick on one of the lamps around his bed, sheet still clutched to his chest.

Yuuri jumped up on the bed, not having to worry about disturbing Makkachin this time, and kneeled over Victor the same way he had done weeks ago to show him Yuuri’s free skate music, Victor looking at him with the same wide-eyed stare he’d had back then.

Yuuri felt arrested, suddenly, under that stare, unsure what to say, so he just thrust out his right arm at Victor, palm up.

“Look at my wrist, Vitya!”

A crease of worry replaced the surprise on Victor’s face as he looked down. 

“What is it?”, he asked, gently cradling Yuuri’s hand and running his thumb over the slightly pinked skin at his wrist. “Did you hurt yourself? Is it sprained?”

“No!”, Yuuri said, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice and leaning over to the side to turn on another lamp, flooding the bed with some more light. “Look at it!”

“I’m not sure—”, Victor began, leaning closer to Yuuri’s wrist, and then broke off, the exact moment he realised what he was looking at clear in the way his grip tightened ever so slightly on Yuuri’s hand and his mouth dropped open.

He whipped his head up, looking at Yuuri with wide, shining eyes, his other hand finally letting go of the sheet clutched to his chest. “Yuuri…”

“Vitya…”, Yuuri murmured back, his left hand coming up to gently, hesitantly touch Victor’s cheek. 

Yuuri wouldn’t have been able to say who initiated the kiss, he just knew that suddenly there were lips on lips, gentle but oh so intense, and hands wrapped around each other as they pulled each other closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... no one hit pay dirt, I'm afraid! 
> 
> Sorry to end it here, but there is one more chapter coming next week for a (hopefully) satisfactory conclusion! ❤❤❤
> 
> In the meantime, you can [join my Discord server](https://discord.gg/MGZdMQc), or if you want to read the final chapter now, you know what to do 😉
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

They got lost for a while in the feeling of their lips on each other, soft touches and deep kisses expressing all that they didn‘t have the words to say.

By the time they broke apart they were both breathless but smiling helplessly as Yuuri leaned his forehead against Victor‘s.

For a few long moments, they just breathed each other in, their quiet pants and thrumming heartbeats the only noise in the room, before Victor reached up to gently card his fingers through Yuuri‘s hair.

„Yuuri…“, he whispered, and his voice felt so fragile, so brittle in his throat, „My Yuuri… I love you.“

Yuuri‘s hands on Victor‘s shoulders tightened as Yuuri drew in a sharp breath, and he pulled back just enough that they could properly look at each other.

Yuuri‘s eyes, when he met Victor‘s gaze, were something so bright and clear, something hard and honey-sweet at once. „I love you, Vitya“, he whispered, and Victor couldn‘t help the smile that spread on his face hearing those words, wide and warm and so real that it hurt his cheeks.

Yuuri smiled too, Victor could feel it against his lips as he leaned in to kiss him again, quick and chaste. 

When they pulled back, Yuuri was still smiling, eyes downcast and shaking his head, like he couldn‘t quite believe what was happening. Before Victor could open his mouth to reassure him, however, Yuuri stilled.

One hand sliding down from Victor‘s shoulder, his fingertips came to rest on the Soulwords under Victor‘s collarbone. Victor could see him silently mouthing the words as he traced his fingers along them, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows that Victor wanted to smooth out with his lips.

„V-Victor…“, Yuuri said, looking up at him, wide-eyed, the crease sharpening, something like fear in his gaze. He let both hands fall by his sides and Victor felt suddenly bereft without his touch. „I didn‘t—how did… when…“

„Ah“, Victor said with a nervous laugh, „Well, yes, I guess it‘s… it seems a bit quick, doesn‘t it? But I could never guard my heart against you. I… couldn‘t stop thinking about you after that.“

„No, Victor, no“, Yuuri said, sounding panicked, drawing away further from him so that Victor‘s hand still resting in his neck fell away, and something heavy and burning sunk in Victor‘s stomach. Was it too much, too soon? He always knew he‘d fallen in love with Yuuri very quickly, and, as it turned out, without knowing him very well at all, but… „I never said this to you“, Yuuri continued, a pained half-whisper, disrupting Victor‘s train of thought. 

„What—Yuuri! Of course you did!“

Yuuri shook his head, and when he spoke his voice sounded choked. „Why would you lie about this?“

„Why indeed—Yuuri, you know that‘s impossible! The word on your wrist is my word, yes? You know this. The only other people you‘ve spoken to in the last twelve hours are your family. And you love me, yes?“

Yuuri swallowed, and there were definitely tears swimming in his eyes now. „Yes“, he whispered.

„Then you know that the words on my skin are yours. They couldn‘t be anyone else‘s. There‘s no such thing.“

Yuuri gave a bitter-sounding huff, though half-hearted. 

„You mean there‘s never been such a thing before.“

„Yuuri!“, Victor cupped his face in both his hands and was relieved when Yuuri did not pull back, though he carefully avoided Victor‘s eyes, „Do you really not remember?“

The downward turn of Yuuri‘s lips was answer enough. 

„I love you, Yuuri. These words meant everything to me. They‘re the whole reason I came to Hasetsu in the first place.“

Now Yuuri looked up, and the hurt in his expression was replaced with confusion, which Victor supposed was an improvement at least.

„Wait—before you came to Hasetsu? That‘s… now I know you‘re lying. I never said a word to you before you came to Hasetsu.“

„Oh.“ Now it was Victor‘s turn to stare slack-jawed, letting his hands fall. „You don‘t… remember the banquet?“

„The banquet?“ Yuuri gasped. „You mean… in Sochi?“

Yuuri answered Victor‘s nod with a shake of his head. „I… I don‘t. I talked to you there? I asked you to be my coach?“

Victor swallowed and nodded again, trying to wrap his head around this new information. He had known that Yuuri was drunk at the banquet, of course, but he didn‘t think he was that drunk.

„It‘s—I—we—“, Victor took a deep breath and licked his lips, trying to make his mouth form words, „You did so much more than that“, he finally said, his voice a little hoarse, „You danced with me all night. Well, and with some other people too, Yurio is still bitter you beat him in that dance battle. You pole-danced, too“—here Yuuri gave a little gasp, covering his mouth with both hands, but Victor continued undeterred—„with Chris, and on your own, and you were so… so beautiful. Not just—I mean. Just, in the way you moved. In the way you made the music your own, and felt everything so deeply.“ 

Forcing himself to look up at Yuuri again, Victor saw that the little crease had returned to his forehead, but he was still listening intently.

„You kept returning to me throughout the night“, Victor went on, „and we danced. Tango and Flamenco and oh, I don‘t know what else. We talked, too, not about anything in particular, I guess, just… chatter. You were… radiant. And at the end of the night, you asked me to be your coach and I… well, I was done for.“

There was silence for a long while, as Yuuri processed and Victor waited breathlessly for a reaction. Finally Yuuri lowered his hands, fidgeting, and took a deep breath.

„You… you came here because you were already in love with me? Because you knew I was your soulmate?“

Victor winced. „Well… yes, but also because I really wanted to coach you. You are a wonderful skater, Yuuri, and you deserve a coach that really supports you to your full potential.“

Yuuri waved his words away, gaze still serious as it was fixed on Victor‘s face. „Why didn‘t you tell me?“

Victor shrugged, helpless. „I guess I just… I wanted you to find out on your own? I, uh… I didn‘t think it would take this long? This is gonna sound really vain but… after the banquet I was quite sure you had a rather high opinion of me.“

Yuuri grimaced a little. „I did. I do. I just… I‘ve been… I suppose at this point it won‘t surprise you when I say that I‘ve, uh, rather admired you for a long time. But that was… that was just Victor Nikiforov, the skater and… when you came here…“, Yuuri shrugged, „you were just very different from what I expected.“

„We’re you disappointed?“, Victor asked, flicking his eyes away, trying to make the words sound light-hearted.

„Vitya, no!“, Yuuri said, stumbling over the syllables in his haste, „Never!“ He paused. „It was just… so much. When you first came here. I was so overwhelmed to have all your attention on me all the time, when I didn‘t know what I had done to deserve it.“

Victor gave a little groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

„I suppose from your perspective I did come on a little strong, didn‘t I? I just… I felt like we already knew each other. I did wonder why you were so…“

„Scared shitless?“, Yuuri supplied with a wry grin, making Victor chuckle.

„Reticent, is what I was going to say.“

Yuuri shook his head again, staring down at both of their hands before reaching out hesitantly and clasping Victor‘s hands firmly in his own. 

„So… it‘s really true?“, he whispered, „You‘re my soulmate?“

Victor felt a small smile tug on his lips and ran his thumbs over Yuuri‘s knuckles. 

„I‘m all yours, _zolotse_. Have been for a long time.“

When Yuuri looked up this time, his eyes were burning, and he surged forward into another kiss, guiding Victor‘s arms around his waist before wrapping his own around Victor‘s neck. 

„Yuuri“, Victor murmured against his lips, „Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri“, until Yuuri gently shushed him, swiping his tongue into the opening of his mouth and deepening their kiss. Victor shivered unter Yuuri‘s attention, his mouth so hot, his skin so soft against Victor‘s, his fingers so gentle and yet unmistakably possessive, scratching at the short hair at the back of Victor‘s head.

Another short eternity was lost in the scant space between them, everything beyond this room, beyond this bed, beyond the realities of their skin, their bodies falling away.

When they broke apart once more, emotion was sitting heavily at the bottom of Victor‘s throat, and brimming in Yuuri‘s eyes as well.

„I‘m sorry I doubted you“, Yuuri whispered, once again tracing his fingers over Victor‘s Soulwords. 

„You‘re forgiven“, Victor murmured back. „If I had known that you didn‘t remember… well. It doesn‘t matter now.“

Yuuri gave him a wobbly smile and Victor‘s heart nearly stopped when he bent down to press his lips to Victor‘s name imprinted on his skin.

He reached up for Yuuri’s right hand and pulled it to his front, cradling it gently in his own and mirroring Yuuri’s gesture with a soft kiss of his own, before running his thumb along the Soulword on Yuuri’s wrist, which had already darkened a few shades since Victor had first looked at it. It stood out a little more clearly now on the pale skin on the inside of Yuuri’s arm. 

Victor ran his nail carefully along the slightly raised edge of the letters. “Do you remember?”, he asked, “when…?”

Yuuri gave him a soft, crooked smile. “Do you?”

Victor pulled his shoulders up with a small grin. “I don’t know, Yuuri, I feel like I’ve been pleading with you quite a lot lately.”

Yuuri huffed a quick laugh, but his expression turned serious. 

“It’s easier, you know.”

Victor raised his eyebrows, a question.

“When you ask for what you actually want”, Yuuri clarified. “I’m… not very good at reading you. What you want from me? Maybe not yet, maybe… maybe I’ll learn. I’ll try. But…”, he twisted his hand around in Victor’s grip in order to lace their fingers together. “I’m scared of doing the wrong thing. So it’s easier, when you ask.”

“I’ll try”, Victor said, squeezing Yuuri’s fingers lightly. “I’ll do my best to let your Word be a reminder to me. Although I have to say, you are not exactly Mr. Forthcoming yourself.”

Yuuri pulled a wry grimace. 

“I know”, he mumbled, “I know. I’ll… I’ll try, too. I want... “, he paused, licking his lips and squaring his shoulders like he was steeling himself, before meeting Victor’s eyes head-on. “I want this to work. I want you.”

“What a happy coincidence”, Victor whispered, though he couldn’t keep the grin off his face, “because I want you, too.”

For a few long moments their gaze held, and Victor hoped that his words had gotten through to Yuuri, that his eyes had held the intensity of his feeling, because he never wanted Yuuri to doubt this.

In the end, it was Yuuri who looked away first, if only for his eyes to flicker down to Victor’s lips, the rest of him soon following as he leaned close and kissed Victor again, briefly, sweetly. 

“I suppose we should go to sleep soon”, he murmured, “It’s late, and I really shouldn’t miss another day of practice tomorrow.”

Victor nodded reluctantly. “You’re right, I suppose. We can still… talk about this more in the morning. Or throughout the day?” It wasn’t his intention, but he couldn’t quite keep the words from coming out as a question. 

“Of course”, Yuuri said, “We… we’ve got time.”

Victor smiled at that. “We do.” He toyed idly with Yuuri’s fingers. “Will you stay with me… tonight?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Victor looked up at him, something warm curling into the corners of his lips. “Please”, he said. 

Yuuri nodded with a smile of his own. “I… was going to take a shower, you know, before I came in here. I guess it’s too late now, I’ll do it in the morning. So, uhm… sorry if I’m a little gross.”

“Yuuri”, Victor said with a hint of admonishment in his voice, “if you’re gross then so am I. You should have thought of that before you extensively made out with me. Now come here already!” He scooched over a little on the bed and lifted up a corner of the sheet for Yuuri to slip under it. 

Yuuri cuddled up next to him, his body so, so warm next to Victor’s, much warmer than Victor would have liked on a summer night such as this. But Victor wanted Yuuri right here next to him tonight, heat be damned.

Yuuri snuggled deeper into the pillows with the most adorable wiggling motion as Victor turned off the lights, and then they curled into each other, trading chaste kisses under the cover of darkness. 

It wasn’t long before Victor fell asleep, Yuuri’s breath warm against the skin of his chest, just underneath the collarbone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and following along on this journey! It's been a blast!
> 
> If you enjoyed it, feel free to leave a comment to let me know! It really means a lot to me ❤
> 
> You can also follow me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/nihidea_art) or join my [Discord server](https://discord.gg/MGZdMQc)!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are my life and love!
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/nihidea_art/) and [Tumblr](http://theliteraryluggage.tumblr.com/)! 💜
> 
> Updates fridays, or you can read the next chapter now; check out my pinned tweet on Twitter to find out how.
> 
> Work Title from [Think About Things by Daði Freyr](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFZNvj-HfBU)  
>    
> _though I know I love you_  
>  _I find it hard to see how you feel about me_  
>  _'cause I don't understand you_  
>  _oh, you are yet to learn how to speak._  
>  _when we first met_  
>  _I will never forget_  
>  _cause even though I did not know you yet_  
>  _we were bound together, then and forever_  
>  _and I will never let you go._


End file.
